


Take A Picture, I'll Last Forever

by HelloitsVehere



Series: One Short ✿ [6]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Cameras, Flowers, Fluff, Hydrangea, M/M, Polaroid, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:21:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21768277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloitsVehere/pseuds/HelloitsVehere
Summary: CC is a part-time detective, Ricky is a photographer. They live next to each other.
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: One Short ✿ [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569595
Comments: 2
Kudos: 58





	Take A Picture, I'll Last Forever

**Author's Note:**

> I made this during writing block so it might be messy ;-;

Something nudged by his side, an orange furball. Obi step on to the bed, spreading his warmth through the cold blanket on CC’s body. “Goodmorning”

The sunlight supports his poor vision, seeing fragments of the other room past his window still. There was not much there, just a table of trays and wall with strings, holding pictures are yet to dry, a small bed, a bookcase with cameras and types of films. 

“Mweo” Obi drops something. CC tries to look through the stars in his view as he picks it up. Another polaroid. The colors are off and fragments of the white layer appear through the ink, eating the image. He can only make out a small plant, sitting neatly in a pot, the dirt around its root is dark. Probably watered if the drops on it’s tiny leaves suggest otherwise.

Fuck. He’s really doing this to him huh? CC groans through unnerving, startled Obi who’s cleaning himself. Rude.

“Did you see him?”

“Mrow”

Fair enough.  
  


\-----  
  


CC lays face up to their ceiling fan one afternoon, as the sun melts through the curtains. Instant noddles, wasted coffee and a mix of paperwork on the table. Worn out.

“Mrew” Obi came from his balcony, some company. Ignore the throbbing pain in his head, he gets the bow for Obi at the counter. Pours some cat food in for him. “Here ya go, boy”

“Mrew”

He sits next to him on the ground, a single ‘thunk’, along with the bow meet the wooden floor. His eyes meet a flash. “What you got there?” Obi drop the thin object from his mouth, more interested in the food now. And CC pick the thin plastic up- A polaroid. 

It’s a picture of his window from outside, where Ricky would get a good view of it. And this exact film that he uses. It’s fresh, the smell of Fuji 100c like cherries.

He looks out the golden filter, eyeing the other building facing his apartment.

Wonder what he’s doing now.  
  


\-----  
  


They meet on a Saturday. When CC got out to buy groceries, and he meets his neighbor. He was… small, muscular, with a honeyed skin that goes along with his sparkling eyes. CC had a hard time to communicate like a human there. But they talked, asking about each other’s lives, what their jobs are. I guess it’s already shown that Ricky’s a photographer, with all the pictures CC keep and hang on his wall, along with gruesome murder ones.

It was… not a good combination, but he loves how Ricky captured things. From plants to buildings then animals. Mostly Obi though. And he would ready to spend his entire morning with his neighbor.

“Hold it up like... so” Ricky states, one of his eyes flutters as he holds up his camera. CC is standing next to him, his grip around a reflector. Ricky is standing ridiculously close to him, to the point where he could smell the other's cologne. The coordination to his outfit neat, a plain hoodie with his black glasses is all it takes to struck CC.

They are facing an old souvenir store. It was wedged between two taller buildings. It looked squeezed, as if the neighbors were closing in, letting the store have its space to be small, close and comfy. The sign was old, some letters had become illegible in the peeling paint. But the window was clear and the artifacts on display were clearly antique, despite their clean designs. There was no theme to them or color arrangement and they have crammed together rather than artistically arranged in a daffodil and tawny palette. Yet, it was pleasing enough for Ricky to held his lens back.

The ‘snap snap’ and clicking could be heard as CC tears his eyes away from the smaller, looking around and realize how awkward it’s for them to make a whole studio in the middle of London’s street. It doesn’t  _ feel  _ awkward, cause he’s here, with Ricky.

“Alright, that’s good,” Ricky says as he fixes his glasses, the contact is blurred. Despite the sunny light tracing pedestrians unfamiliar faces, decorating the texture of the old shop with its honeyed flare. It’s still cold, bitter gusts of wind spread its fingers around them. CC has the advantage of being a normal human being and wears what the news suggested that day, protected enough in his two-layered coat with hat, plus an extra scarf cause he knows how this’s going down. Ricky already breathing vapor, huffing out short breaths that make his frame shudder.

CC decides to keep his sun warm, for him already heated up inside.

A bit too sudden and weird, he takes off his scarf, flung it around Ricky, who has been trying to clean his glasses till now. Ricky jumps, then still as CC knots the muffler. It doesn’t look pleasing with the other’s aesthetic, but it stops him from freezing to death. It was about twice as long as it needed to be for Ricky, do that even wrapped twice around his neck.

The scarf had been such a simple gift by his relatives and at the time that's all it was, a scarf. It probably cost just a few dollars. It wasn't anything fancy, just a rectangle of yellow in cheap yarn. But now seeing it sitting tidily on Ricky’s body making him feel things. And those things leave his hand motionless where it tided the knot.  
  


\-----  
  


They don’t talk about it. They hold hands, they go shopping, they chat back and forth between the gap of building. It was almost a secret spot for them, since not many people’s view faces here, only for drying laundry. Sometimes, the sunlight will soak through those fabric layers, creating a technicolor filter for Ricky to test out God-knows-what lens and contacts those were. But he just enjoys the lighting on Ricky’s hair, how his eyes shine over the rainbow background.

With Ricky, he spends less time on unsolved cases, losing his sleep with black letters on white papers. He feels almost… reborn. And he’s sure Ricky feels that too. He comes home earlier, he set his camera aside. Both orbits around the other for their free time, weekends or even just noon break. And, ok, he stare at Ricky when he’s calling the little guy out for dinner with his oh so warm voice “Obi! Obi! Come here boy!” then put the bow down, petting the cat’s head as the animal come down to his balcony.

They just go with the flow, let each day build a picture of the future. Ricky would be a successful photographer while CC could open an office for his investigations with his co-workers downtown. They could move out, live together, take Obi with them. And that's smart if you think about it. You can only ever get to know a person over time, and they have way past that now. It's when you are comfortable together and real, when you talk in the way lovers do, that things are right.

So, CC relax and enjoy the heaviness on his chest as he watches Obi’s steady breath, falling asleep on their sofa after a movie marathon. His identical other secured in a picture frame by their coffee table.  
  


\-----  
  


Their fifth date had been cracking sidewalks and stary night sky that struggled past the clouds. They had made several loops of their block, how many neither of them can recall. On the first few circuits, the talk had been shy, almost becoming familiar and then each of them backing away, afraid people would notice the two love birds. Another few circuits and they were them again, bantering up and down.

And CC would never forget that, how Ricky’s smile was so breathtaking, so lovely, even in front of a glassy flower store. He’s like an angel that comes down here, to this dark and gloomy city just to bright up CC’s life.

They walk past that flower store, hydrangeas were on display. They are colors to weave dreams from, as soft and delicate as any silk. How they come from earth, sunshine and rain feel akin to magic, even though the science is well known. God, Ricky was right, he was a nerd. But they are stuck together now, huh?

“You like flowers?” his voice brought him back, his hands already around the camera. This happened before, he would ask if CC likes anything when he stares at it and immediately processes to purchase them. He doesn’t question it too much, he buys stuff for him too you know, this isn’t one side. But he wonders how much Ricky actually makes a month.

Push things aside, he focuses on the camera instead.

“Are you taking pictures of everything I like?”

Ricky doesn’t answer, only lowered his grip, embarrassment from being caught outspread on his face. It’s adorable actually.

“You should take a picture of the mirror then”

Ricky’s eyes caught him, and they laugh.

They continued to walk, tracing the pavement with their shoes. The strangers and forgettable scenes are blurred out of their personal bubble, there’s no world outside Ricky’s eyes and his enthusiastic tone. “So, uh hydrangeas- It first discovered in Japan actually. My mom told me that the name comes from the Greek "hydor," meaning water, and "angos," meaning jar or vessel”

“Was that the real words? Or did you just-”

“Flexing my pronunciation? Sure”

CC grins.

“Some say it’s vanity and boastfulness, others say they express the giver's gratefulness for the recipient's understanding. But in reality, it represents anything...”

They stop then, standing under a street lamp. The golden gauze softens his five o clock shadow, pins CC where he meets Ricky’s dark eyes.

“That's sincerely heartfelt”

CC let out a chuckle, this cheesy goof. He turns, expecting to continue their walk. But Ricky’s hand found his. Tugging on it, squeezing his fingers into CC’s palm. Like a kid finding his way with a toy the first time.

CC squeezes back.  
  


\-----  
  


CC doesn’t ask why he would come home so late that night. Cause he too was losing his sleep on the cases and papers laying over their kitchen table. And maybe losing himself in Ricky’s soft edges under their yellow lightbulb. He still has CC’s scarf, once he decided he’s ‘too lazy’ to give it back, around his neck. His tired eyes still fill with joviality as he reminds them both it’s time for bed, in a benevolent, gentle tone that makes CC want to drown in them. They sleep in different places of course, but something about the gesture saying “C’mon, let’s go to sleep” from the other side of his window gives CC night butterflies.

“Alright, alright. Let’s go” CC said as he gathers his files, keeps them balance by his side with his arm. CC tries his best not to laugh at Ricky’s adorable yawn.

Ricky was about to close his window then, the old wood creaking in the silent night. He should really get those repairs.

“Ah, hey” CC whispers. Ricky’s head shot up, despite his tired frame, and hands loosely around the camera on his neck. It was a tiring day for him, sure, but CC need to do this today.

A quick flash pass by Ricky, his eyes glued shut in surprise.

“Dude!” he exclaimed, rubbing the stars away from his vision. Then he turns to CC, offering the piece of white plastic over. He realizes the other was holding a camera, Fujifilm Instax type.

Ricky stare at it, the camera had a case made from black hammered metal, the lens jutted out on a highly polished brass looking cylinder, finished at the end with a rim of more black metal. Two dials and a button poked out from the top and it bore the name Leica. It had to be almost 100 years old. Then he realizes the polaroid CC still holding, he takes it into his hands, careful not to ruin the new picture.

Is was a good one, compared to someone who’s only been working on murder and crime, the angle was enchanting enough to make his face stands out from the lightbulb in the background. 

“Did you bought that?” he asks once he examined the picture under his photographer’s eyes. CC seemed, shy, to say.

“You don’t like it?” he asks and oh God, Ricky is dating an idiot.

“No, no! Of course I love it- It’s just. I didn’t know you are into photography”

“Maybe. I’m just into you”

The absolute pang of warmth wash though Ricky, even is his exhausted body is almost collapsing on the floor now.The words and- fuck, playful line that he set up bring him the last energy to wrap his scarf around CC’s unaware body, and tug him close to land a kiss on his cheek.

Before he pulls away, he swears he could feel CC’s skin get hot under his lips.

“Nice one detective,” he says and turns away with the photograph in his hand, closing the window to announce that their talk is over, and he’s too sleepy for any more dumb lines CC got to throw over. 

The other stay motionless as the window closed in, the night’s wind is like a slap to the face, but didn’t blow away from the heat still there on his cheek, the scarf around his neck is to hot all the sudden. He could smell the faint perfume of hydrangeas on their window sills, where Obi sits looking at him. That little devil.

After ages just- standing there, he smiles to himself like a dork.

Rent a camera for 40 bucks has never been so cost-efficiently. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are everything to me!


End file.
